


love and butter

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minghao and Vernon discuss dandelions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love and butter

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i'm not even sure if dandelions grow in china and korea? they're literally everywhere, so i just sort of assumed. i miss summer a lot OTL i love dandelions... and cottonwood falling... and warm weather... this is so unlike me i usually hate summer...
> 
> this fic is kinda boring hehe it's pretty self indulgent. shoutout to all the vernhao shippers, i didn't realize how real it was until the other day and i felt like writing something dumb! sorry if there are any spelling/grammar errors, i didn't really bother checking haha...

                They’d driven out to a nice, grassy park for a photoshoot—and they thank God that they don’t have anything scheduled after the shoot, so they get to hang around outside for a while.

                Jeonghan is asleep, Seungkwan is yelling about something, Mingyu and Seokmin are chasing eachother, but Vernon and Minghao are seated quietly beside each other. The sun makes it impossible for either of them to use their phones—it’s bright and the glare is too much—so they settle for lounging back on their elbows, letting the sun warm their arms and faces. It’s not hot, per se, but the stylists insisted on Minghao wearing a sweater, so he’s already started sweating and smudging his eyeliner. He adjusts his position in the prickly grass to take off the loose, blue knit, revealing a simple button-up shirt. When he emerges from his clothes, he sees Vernon plucking little yellow flowers from the grass.

                “Hyung, do you know what these are called?” Vernon asks. It’s out of curiosity rather than quizzing Minghao on his English, which is almost alarming.

                “Why’re you asking me?” Minghao retorts with a laugh and a firm set of knuckles to his arm. “I know in Chinese its _pugongying,_ but that doesn’t mean much to you.”

                There’s a small bout of silence as Vernon picks at the leaves of the weed, brows furrowed. He mumbles _pungongying_ to himself, letting the older correct his pronunciation once and uttering it a few more times before sitting up and clearing his throat pointedly.

                “In English, its dandelion,” He says, scratching his hair, “when I was little, they were one of the only flowers that grew in the city—New York, that is. They’re pretty tough for flowers.”

                “Because they’re not flowers, they’re weeds.” Minghao remarks absentmindedly, watching Vernon’s face contort even further in confusion.

                “Really?”

                “Yes, Hansollie!”

                 “Ah, I learned something today!” The two chuckle to themselves, the others in the background suddenly noisy and preoccupied again. Junhui bends down, placing a hand on Minghao’s shoulder. He asks if they want to play mafia, and when Minghao and Vernon sigh simultaneously, Junhui runs off. Minghao picks two more dandelions from beside him, handing one to the darker haired boy to replace the one he’s already decimated.

                “We should’ve asked Junie-hyung what they’re called in Korean.” Minghao comments, and Vernon nods. He shouldn’t be stuck on such easy words, considering he’s better at Korean than English, but his head must be somewhere else.

                Suddenly, Vernon’s eyes go wide, and he just about shouts after another stretch of silence for him to think. “It’s _suseonhwa!_ No, no… _mindeulle?_ _Mindeulle!”_ The younger shakes Minghao by the shoulders, making him grin and cheer in elation. They high five, and Vernon tosses the remains of his two dandelions into the air.

                They calm down sometime after that, and as the sun starts lowering in the sky, the other boys start to settle as well. They’ve broken up into little groups, and now Junhui is sleeping soundly in the grass nearby Vernon and Minghao. Now that the sun isn’t so high, Vernon checks his phone while Minghao fiddles with the grass and weeds surrounding him.

                “I used to be able to make crowns out of dandelions, but I forgot how.” He comments. Vernon looks up from his phone and sets it beside him to shuffle closer to the older boy.

                “I know a trick with dandelions,” He says, picking one from a pile Minghao stashed beside him, “if you hold one under your chin and your chin glows yellow, it means you’re in love. Or you like butter. Something like that.”

                Minghao chirps with laughter. “Are you making this up as you go?”

                “No, seriously, ask Josh later. My mom always did it to me when I was a kid. Here—“ Vernon takes the yellow plant and holds it slightly below Minghao’s chin.

                “Is it glowing?” He asks, going cross-eyed in attempt to see it.

                “Yeah, actually,” Vernon says in awe before smiling and switching his tone to a teasing one, “Hyung, who are you in love with?”

                Minghao flushes, shoving Vernon and muttering “shut up” only to have Vernon waggle his eyebrows in return. Junhui stirs in his sleep, but they have a hard time quieting down.

                “I just really like butter, okay?” This unleashes another guffaw from Vernon’s chest, and he grips his stomach before falling back in the grass, looking up and away from the sun.

                Minghao follows, and they relax shoulder-to-shoulder. They could probably fall asleep if it weren’t for their manager calling them back into the van.

                When they get home, they go to sleep at 6:00pm on the living room floor, air conditioning on low, beside each other as they had been in the grass some time earlier. Minghao’s still got dandelion leaves in his shirt pocket, and when he closes his eyes he can almost feel the sun on his face and the grass on his back, the AC acting as a subtle breeze.

                Minghao was lying—he doesn’t particularly care for butter.


End file.
